


Calculating Chaos

by Like_a_Hurricane



Series: Tricks of the Trade [3]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, you people shouldn't encourage me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 03:54:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Like_a_Hurricane/pseuds/Like_a_Hurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mini-sequel to "Of Liars’ Gifts and Gifted Liars". Read that, or this will make very little sense. Inspired by a comment from Daitoshi: “Hey dad, yeah I’ve been stealing Golden Apples, made a new god. Fun times.” Which is a pretty good summary, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calculating Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> There is [GLORIOUS FANART](http://nautilusl2.tumblr.com/post/27221415700/lokis-plus-one-for-hurricanes-fantastic-verse) for this story by the lovely, lovely [NautilusL2](http://nautilusl2.tumblr.com/)

Thor’s return to Asgard was, as always, noticed and murmured over. A feast was declared as soon as it became clear that his arrival this time came with the last rare materials needed to rebuild the rainbow bridge, and the public was sufficiently diverted. There were occasional mutterings about the untrustworthy individual who had facilitated the collection of so much matter and resources, but not enough for many people to wonder where exactly the god of lies and mischief might be, and why he had not arrived with his brother.

As the feast began, however, Loki appeared, looking very self-satisfied, to the point past prank-victims of his (which included a large number of people) instinctively felt a bit nervous at the mere sight of him. At first, that was all people noticed, until it became clear that Loki was neither at his brother’s side, nor alone, but clearly attending the feast in another man’s company. The man was not very tall, and was dressed in leathers of darkest red with accents of brassy-gold. He wore one red gauntlet with a pale palm, which seemed to be made entirely of metal, and there was an intermittent, flickering glow visible under the fabric of his tunic, right over his heart. He was dark-haired, shrewd, and had a smile almost as disconcerting as the god of mischief’s, with a little more charisma and self-confidence behind it. Loki stood close to him, often just slightly behind him, watching the festivities from over the smaller man’s shoulder. They spoke quietly to each other, and laughed often, with surprisingly little malice.

“How exactly do you plan on introducing me then?” Tony murmured, as people began eyeing them more and more curiously. It was only a matter of time before word reached a member of Loki’s adoptive kin.

“You are Anthony Stark of Midgard,” Loki said simply.

“Friend of yours? Companion? Fuck-buddy?”

The god of mischief snorted lightly. “I was going to leave our connection unstated, but if you prefer, I can introduce you as my lover.”

“Or I could ask you to marry me and we could say betrothed, if you’d like.”

Loki coughed around a sip of mead, very nearly choking. “Pardon?” he inquired, his voice not quite so even as it had been.

Tony flashed him a smirk. “I won’t share either where you’re concerned, and I think you made it clear that you plan to stick around for a while, yeah?” He glanced pointedly at a passing tray of golden apples being carried to the banquet table.

The god of mischief was still staring at him a bit wide-eyed.

“A bit not good?”

Loki shook his head. “Not at all. No, it––it’s just requiring a great deal of effort for me to not ravish you in the middle of a crowded banquet hall,” Loki managed, his voice still a bit tight. “I may require a moment or so to recover.” As he said it, he reached out and took Tony’s gauntlet-free hand in his own, fingers entwining and squeezing tightly.

Tony squeezed back, grinning wickedly. “I love it when you’re flustered.”

The god of mischief then proceeded to lean in and hiss a few promises in his ear: very detailed, and very hungry-sounding. Tony made a small noise. “Not. Fair.”

Loki chuckled, and pulled back, one hand sliding possessive over the back of the engineer’s neck as his eyes again scanned the room. He knew his smile was too bright, too sincere and very nearly giddy, but couldn’t bring himself to care. “Neither was springing such a question on me here, at a time like this.”

“Is that a no?”

“I’m averse to weddings, but perhaps we can have a very long engagement until you manage to change my mind on that front. I can offer you that,” Loki murmured, quietly enough for only Tony to hear. “You might also want to meet my daughter before fully extending that offer.”

Tony stiffened. “Uh. You really have kids?”

“Well, singular: the mythology you might have reviewed on earth was rather confused on some counts, there. Hel is my only child. In retrospect, had we known sooner rather than later about my true parentage, a number of things might have been made easier for her,” he murmured, his expression growing rather darker, though his eyes grew less distant when the engineer’s hand squeezed his just a little tighter once more.

“I’d like to meet her sometime, then, yeah. Regardless, though, my offer stands.”

Loki chuckled despite himself. He only reluctantly released Tony’s hand when he heard someone behind him calling his name. He turned to face them with a reserved, but pleasant expression, but the wicked mirth behind it chilled a little once recognition hit. “Good evening, Sif,” he said curtly.

She nodded to him, and spared a curious glance for the god of mischief’s companion, who grinned at her a bit wolfishly just for fun. Looking back to Loki, she cleared her throat and said, “Your father and mother wish to speak with you, and to be introduced to your... companion.”

The god of mischief turned his head expectantly and met Tony’s gaze, then promptly wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive fashion.

“The name’s Tony. I’ve heard a lot about you.” The engineer braced one arm across his chest and offered a small bow, as he’d seen Loki do once or twice so far that evening, when greeting someone formally. Most people in the hall seemed to use a variation on a hand-shake with people they knew: gripping forearms instead of wrists. The bow-and-gesture was used a bit more sparingly for informal or business acquaintances, Tony had noticed. Or with Loki, who didn’t exactly exude an aura of easy intimacy toward the rest of the world.

“I––wish I could say the same,” Sif said slowly, a single crease appearing between her eyebrows as her confusion steadily grew.

“Where are my parents hiding, Sif? They hadn’t even formally arrived quite yet, last I heard,” Loki interrupted.

“In the hall. They would have preferred you to enter with them, rather than coming in early, apparently.”

The god of mischief nodded, wearing a more somber face. “Thank you. We shall hasten to them, then.” He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

“Good meeting you,” Tony tossed at the girl, as he turned to follow. As they reached a less-than-obvious side door in the wings of the banquet hall, the engineer mused aloud, “She reminds me of a reporter I knew once.”

“Hm?”

“Not worth more than the once.”

Loki chuckled. “You humor me far too much, darling.”

“Well, it’s only fair. You encourage me to snark even more than I normally do.”

“I wasn’t aware that was possible.” Loki opened the door and peered out into the main corridor. He could hear voices not too far away, and even before they stepped out into the hallway, Tony recognized at least one of them as Thor’s. The god of mischief stood up a little straighter, and absently moved his hands fluidly where they rested at his sides, loosening up his wrists and stretching out his fingers: the habit of a mage preparing for a conflict.

“Nervous?” Tony asked, barely more than a whisper.

Loki nodded once, and led him down the corridor.

Along with a few tall and impressive men wearing shiny helmets, some of which looked even more ridiculous than Loki’s––Tony hesitated to call them guards: they were clearly for display, and not half so powerful as the people they seemed to be guarding––there were three figures decorated in a rather more ornate fashion. At Thor’s left, on his arm, was an elegant older woman dressed in shades of pearl and soft gold. Standing before them both, and first to turn his head in their direction, was a man who was very obviously Odin. The golden eye-patch reminded Tony disconcertingly of Nick Fury, if only for a moment, because Odin proceeded to offer a kind, but frankly suspicious half-smile at the sight of them: the god of mischief and a stranger in slightly flashy red-and-gold armor.

“All-Father,” Loki said coolly, his tone more respectful, and with more polished caution, than the engineer had ever heard from him before. With just his fingers, he gestured subtly at Tony, who got the hint and went to kneel just before Loki did: arm across his chest just as before.

“Loki, my son,” Odin returned, inclining his head in a nod of acknowledgement.

Thor and Frigga turned just in time for Tony to look up and see all of the blood drain from the thunder god’s face, which wore an expression of apparent shell-shock. It took a great deal of effort to keep a straight face, and Tony cursed the god of mischief for appearing to take it in his stride, until he saw the slight quiver of suppressed laughter roll down Loki’s spine.

Odin had not yet seen his elder son’s response, fixing his gaze on this guest of his yougest’s. “And who is this?”

Loki stood, and Tony with him. Loki gestured without moving his gaze from his father’s. “This is my guest, Anthony Stark of Midgard.”

Thor made a small, disconcerted sound and covered it with a cough.

The All-father glanced at him, faintly amused yet shrewd, and then met Tony’s eye for a moment, seeming to stare straight through him. “I’ve heard much about you, primarily from Thor, Mr. Stark.” The unspoken question as to why he was Loki’s guest instead of Thor’s hovered ominously in the air for a moment before he continued, “I was not aware that the Avengers had more than immortals among them other than my son and the man called Steve Rogers.”

Tony grinned helplessly at that, and shrugged. “It’s a pretty recent development, admittedly. We’re quite inventive in Midgard, these days.”

“You especially, from what I hear.” Odin stepped closer, looking with curiosity from Loki’s carefully passive mask, to the slightly mischievous grin that the human engineer could not quite suppress. “That device in your chest alone is something of a marvel, as was your feat of providing Asgard with the same element that you keep at its core.” He stood before Loki now, but faced and addressed Tony.

 _Rude_ , the human thought, _all things considered_. “You have Loki to thank for that. It was through his efforts as much as mine,” he said simply. “The knowledge of how to make it is one thing: the resources, location, and power to do it are something else altogether.”

Odin turned to Loki, then, with a slightly more relaxed and knowing look. “A ‘recent development’ in Asgard has been a relatively minor string of peculiar thefts, you know,” he said, holding his younger son’s gaze.

Loki raised his eyebrows in innocent surprise. “Oh, really?”

“Idunn is quite displeased with the whole affair. Apparently it was due to one of her most trusted guardians getting rather gravely drunk and losing a bet.”

The god of mischief blinked twice, then shook his head, just a little solemnly, his voice mocking, “I thought for certain that Asgard had specific precautions in place for that. How were they even able to get drunk? They are resistant.”

“A very fair question,” Odin mused. “I’d be interested to know the answer to that.”

Thor’s expression of shock shifted suddenly into realization, recognition, and disbelief as he looked from his brother, to Tony Stark, and back again, several times in rapid succession. Tony saw it out of the corner of his eye and had to bite his tongue to keep from sniggering.

By contrast, Loki was a study in placid, mild bemusement. “Most strange.”

Odin snorted and looked at Tony again. “Don’t eat the apples where anyone can see you doing so, Mr. Stark; however, you are indeed welcome here,” he said simply. “Shall we, then?” He gestured at the immensely tall, heavy doors to the banquet hall, which slowly began to open.

Frigga took Tony’s arm out of nowhere, and introduced herself, leaving the engineer to sputter an only moderately intelligent response. She smiled beatifically and whispered in his ear, “Asgardian immortality is of a limited sort, and if any grave harm should come to either of my boys by your doing I will show you the limits of your own sort of immortality myself with sharp implements and poisons.” She smiled again as she pulled away, squeezed his gauntleted hand just enough to make the metal creak, but not quite dent, and then took her husband’s arm in time to step into the light of the hall with him.

Tony blinked after her, feeling stunned, flattered, and strangely fond of Loki’s adoptive mother. He sensed Loki sidle up next to him and offered, “I like her. She’s terrifying, but I like her.” The lie-smith gave an amused snort at this, but there was a hollowness to it, a breathlessness that made the engineer look up. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

Tony curled bare fingers around his lover’s hand. “Loki.”

“We walk just behind Thor.”

“Should I be behi-”

“No. You walk with me,” the god of mischief said firmly, with a slight edge of something not-joking-at-all that made Tony’s breath catch. The faint tremors stopped, and Loki again stood still and calm.

The engineer squeezed Loki’s hand once more, until Loki squeezed back. Then they both reluctantly let go, just as Thor took his first step toward the brighter lights of the banquet hall. Perfectly in step with the god of thunder, they followed.

 

~~

 

Tony’s memories of the first twenty to thirty minutes after the slightly awe-inspiring greeting from the moderately-intoxicated crowd, and the influx of people approaching them and shaking hands, or clasping arms, or otherwise greeting with warm and open enthusiasm, were a bit hazy. He remembered noticing people approach Thor with loud and boisterous small-talk, and a few less flashy individuals coming up to Loki, speaking to him a bit more quietly, often with slightly concerned expressions. Loki spoke to them politely, occasionally smiled a sly, cold half-smile at one or two of them, but he was only half-attentive. It was clear to Tony that he listened out of obligation, because he was the more astute of Odin’s sons, and the more likely to understand complex issues presented to him requiring less explanation and fewer moral formalities in turn of phrase than Thor might. Loki didn’t enjoy the task overmuch, but he clearly accepted it, and people did not hesitate to approach him when they had words that needed to be heard, which was really, truly interesting, and Tony had began studying it in earnest when Thor’s hand fell onto his shoulder unexpectedly, with force that might’ve knocked him to the ground had he not already been tense and paranoid. Tony’s mind went suddenly crystal clear in a cooling flood of adrenaline.

“Tony Stark, you are perhaps the strangest man I have ever met,” Thor growled.

“Oh?”

“And one of the most infuriating.”

“Most people would probably agree with you, there.”

Thor opened his mouth to say more, then hesitated, meeting Tony’s gaze. “My brother... is also rather strange and infuriating.”

“Agreed.”

“You deserve each other, I think.” He narrowed his eyes at the human engineer. “You might have been killed for your visit here, were you merely mortal, and I would have been unable to stop it.”

Tony nodded. “I don’t think I’d’ve been invited at all, in that case.” He looked to Loki again and smiled one of his brashest, most winning smiles. “He likes me a bit much for that.”

“Yes.” Thor’s brow furrowed. “And you...”

“He’s mine,” Tony cut off the inquiry, his grin only growing wider and more predatory. “And I’m fine with being his. Very fine, in fact. Excellent.” It was only then that he looked up and saw Odin and Loki deep in conversation, considerably away from the main crowd. He felt a sudden chill down his spine that he couldn’t explain.

 

~~

 

“You remain more than a little reckless, Loki,” was how it started: a low murmur near his ear, and a very strong grip on his shoulder. Then the god of mischief found himself being carefully steered aside. He glanced back at where Thor seemed to have gotten a hand on Tony, which irritated the younger god more than he wanted to admit.

“Father-”

“Drop the masks,” Odin bit out, shooting him a look that brokered no opposition.

For a moment, Loki remained hesitant and well-behaved in appearance. Then, slowly, he let it melt away and stared back with a challenging, slightly harried expression. “For the record, not committing theft was never part of the agreement. Just murder and war-mongering, which I’ve _dutifully_ avoided,” he deadpanned.

“There are laws in place about mortals in Asgard for good reasons, as you well know, Loki.”

“I’m aware,” the younger god snapped back. “I’ve read all our histories, and studied Asgard’s laws. I remember rules _very_ well.” It’s best to be aware of how far and in what contexts one has overstepped, bent, or broken rules; it’s key to knowing how to compose oneself in the event one gets caught.

“Yet you brought a mortal here.”

“He is not _mortal_ anymore,” Loki said quietly, dangerously. “He is mine, and I would do great and terrible things to keep him, Odin All-Father. I have been an enemy of Asgard before, and for him I would gladly become one again; even for all that it might make it rather harder to keep Mistress Death’s lover away from the lot of you, it is not the most critical factor in my plans.”

“And this Anthony Stark _is_ a critical factor?”

Without hesitation, Loki snapped, “Yes.” There was a startling darkness in his expression: smooth, calculating, cold and ruthless. “You requested no masks,” he reminded, his voice almost chiding, when he noted the slightly off-balance look on his father’s face, however briefly.

Odin reached out, then, and settled his hand on the side of Loki’s neck, his grip firm and his movements slow as though trying not to startle a wild animal. “He returns your affection?”

Loki half-laughed: a dry sound that might have had a well-hidden hysterical edge. “Yes.” It was on the tip of his tongue to add, _the madman even asked me to marry him tonight_ , but the words stuck in his throat: still too strange and absurd and terrifying and astounding for him to vocalize. Instead, he swallowed thickly, and added, “For the record, I would rather not be your enemy again too terribly soon. I’m capable of it, but even monsters on occasion appreciate a home to return to, however damaged the bridge to it may be.” He had to bite his tongue to keep it from embarrassing him further.

His father nodded slowly. “I have reason to doubt you would commit this particular crime more than once.” He glanced in the general direction of his younger son’s ‘guest’ and then back to Loki. “He seems a singular sort of man.”

Words failing him, Loki merely nodded.

“Thefts from Idunn’s orchard will get more messy as you repeat them over the centuries.”

“Or I could just bring him here now and again,” Loki said, with a half-shrug. “You already mentioned to him to keep the consumption of apples out of _sight_ , and after tonight, people will find any reappearances by him less shocking. He’s doubtlessly being introduced as a great friend of Thor’s by now, so they might even consider him harmless.”

“Yes, but that’s only after they all noticed him lurking about with you,” Odin murmured. “You’re not subtle when it comes to this one.”

“I can be.”

“The gifts you have given him say otherwise.”

Loki made a small noise of mixed irritation and discomfort.

“The laws here were shaped by my hands, and those of my father before me. I have vetted them, and changed them over time, and they are good and proper laws for the whole of Asgard,” Odin said softly, his grip tightening a little. “I myself, and my kin, should be held to them.”

The lie-smith shot him that dark and unmasked look again. “You have broken them quite often, father. You yourself have been a magician, a trickster, and a thief. _I_ have read the _histories_ , and with a rather keener eye than Thor ever gave them.”

“Which is precisely why I have not yet locked you away or killed you myself,” Odin said, his tone at once affectionate and matter-of-fact. “You take action where I cannot, and where your brother would never consider need for it. I frequently do not approve of your methods, and if you once more go too far––”

“I _am_ actually a bit sorry about trying to destroy another planet. In retrospect it was clear enough that if that was what you really _wanted_ from the war you would’ve already done it-”

“Loki.”

“Incidentally, Tony Stark was the one to point that out to me, if you’re curious.”

Odin hesitated, if only briefly. “Don’t interrupt.”

Ignoring him, the god of mischief continued regardless, “If I go too far, I expect you to do what needs to be done, father,” he said gently, his gaze still cold and a bit distant even as he looked his father in the eye. “I’m not sane, and I will never be the heroic son. I fell, by my own doing, and I met with sights, and people that changed me, and perhaps broke parts of who I was like so much glass. I am a monster, but it does not bother me––not while you still have enough sway to shatter me with a look and a word.”

“And if I cease to?”

“Then you had better have strength and mercy enough in you to kill me,” Loki said, the words falling soft and very young-sounding.

“And what of your immortal inventor?” Odin asked.

“If ever he is lost, and cannot be returned, that would be the time to start watching me _very_ closely for signs of monstrosity outside of anyone’s control.”

“You do love him, then.”

Loki nodded. “Very much so.”

“It is good, then, that Sigyn isn’t here tonight.”

The god of mischief winced, but at the same time looked relieved beyond measure. “Yes. Absolutely.”

“You should speak with her.”

“I’m sure she would be thrilled with that,” Loki mused, dripping sarcasm. “I’d been accused often enough of ruining her reputation even before becoming a traitor, a lunatic and a villain––and yet, still long after we ceased to be married.”

Odin shook his head, looking moderately amused now. “Go free him from your brother. I doubt he is altogether comfortable with the warriors three.”

“You...” Loki paused, cleared his throat, pulled on just a bit of a mask again because he could not speak these words without one: “You approve of him, then?”

The All-Father feigned shrewd consideration for a moment, looking again at Tony Stark, who was apparently standing in uncomfortable silence between Sif and Hogun as Thor, Fandral and Volstagg discussed something in a loud and animated fashion. “I have kept my eye on the Avengers over these past months, for your brother’s sake, and have seen Anthony Stark in battle and elsewhere. He reminded me of you, often enough: he is as brilliant and tricky, ceratinly.” He met Loki’s gaze with a faint half-smirk, and moved his hand from Loki’s neck to his forearm, which burned suddenly.

It was both powerful and unexpected enough to momentarily bring the god of mischief to his knees. Loki gave a surprised hiss as he felt his father’s magic retreat from his skin, leaving pins and needles of alternating hot and cold in its wake. He stared up at his father with wide eyes, sincere rather than feigned for once.

“You chose well,” Odin said. “Now go.”

For a moment, Loki hesitated, then quickly stood and embraced his father, surprising them both. Just as quickly, he let go and straightened up, pulling his scattered masks and composure back together. “Thank you,” he muttered, and stalked away back into the crowd proper, headed straight for Tony Stark.

 

~~

 

Sif had been shooting Tony uncomfortable looks ever since his official introduction to her, and to the warriors three. When Tony managed to sidle out of the central discussion that Thor and two out of those three warriors had embroiled themselves in, he was disconcerted to find her along with him. He was also mildly disconcerted by Hogun’s eerie silence, despite being assured that it was the man’s usual habit. All in all, Tony Stark was not known for being terribly comfortable with long periods of quiet; and yet, given the choice between that, and awkward conversation with one Lady Sif, the human engineer chose to emulate the quietest of Thor’s friends, and pretend to sip on his mead. (Years of conferences and business meetings had taught him to keep a drink in hand as long as possible to keep people from offering him more volatile ones in an effort to get his judgement impaired enough for him to sign unwise things.)

Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. He was just getting the hang of nervously glancing at the apparently tense and potentially dangerous conversation between Loki and Odin––and he’d kill to be a fly on the wall over there––while pretending to be interested in the story of some epic battle that Thor and his louder friends seemed to be recounting, when Sif suddenly asked, “You are a friend to both Thor and Loki, then?”

Tony smirked a little. “You could say that.” He then shot her an innocent look. “You were too, at one time or another, so I hear.”

Sif flushed a little. “Until somewhat recently, yes.”

Tony hummed. “I did sort of get the impression you never really trusted Loki.”

She snorted. “Do _you_?”

“Yes,” Tony said simply, smiling a truly ferocious smile at her: quick and sharp. “I do.”

At that, the warrior maiden looked genuinely uneasy. “And you’re the _genius_ one of these Avengers people?”

“Yes, otherwise I doubt Loki would’ve ever wound up in my bed in the first place,” Tony countered.

Sif’s eyes widened almost cartoonishly.

Tony was still admiring her look of shock when a low voice interrupted, “You’re quite right. You are handsome enough, but it’s your showmanship and intellect that really got my attention.”

While Sif visibly twitched, Tony just turned his head quickly to meet Loki’s eye with a questioning look.

The god of mischief was busy smiling down at Sif in a beatific-yet-greatly-intimidating manner, and Tony realized with some amusement that Loki must’ve learned that look from his mother.

Sif wisely backed away, managing to insinuate herself in with Thor and the others by making the occasional sarcastic comment aimed at one of the boys.

Loki then looked at Hogun, who looked back, expressionless. They nodded at each other, and the god of mischief rested a hand on Tony’s lower back, gently steering them away a few steps. He then met Tony’s gaze with an expression that looked a bit haggard and strangely pleased all at once. “You’re marvelous at offending people. I applaud you.”

“Easy target,” Tony muttered, not looking away from the lie-smith’s face. “Looked to me like you wound up in a slightly more serious conversation, there.”

Reluctantly, Loki nodded. “It was... exhausting.”

Tony stepped closer, setting his only half-empty mead goblet on a passing tray. “Will we need to make a hasty exit or something?”

“No. No, not at all,” the god of mischief smiled with surprising gentleness, worn out from the unaccustomed bout of honesty with his father. “I promise to tell you more of it later.” He looked around them at the crowd, noting that people were glancing at him rather more than usual, and a bit more obviously. And not with suspicion, but with confusion. They were recalling that Loki had attempted a hostile takeover of Midgard, and that Tony had bee one of the ones who stopped him. They were recalling that the god of lies and mischief was dangerous, untrustworthy, and not fond of the company at most parties of recent. Loki could almost hear the gears turning in their little heads, and he began to smirk, feeling a bit more himself. “I take it Thor took it upon himself to loudly introduce you to several people whilst I was distracted?”

“Yeah. The shock factor there was fun. The official story is that there was a Captain America-related accident and I’m sort of immortal now.”

Loki hummed, moving a little closer still. “You didn’t introduce yourself as my betrothed, then.”

The engineer started to smirk, then, catching on. “No, not quite.” He rested a hand on Loki’s waist. “I wanted you as audience for anything _really_ crazy.”

“Maybe later. For now, I’m inclined to participate,” the god of mischief said, as his lips brushed Tony’s.

“Finally,” the human huffed, and caught the trickster’s mouth, kissing him unhurried and affectionate and just a little dirty for the sake of everyone now staring at them. Loki tempted him still dirtier with an edge of teeth and a low sound in his throat that made Tony’s blood rush south. They didn’t stop until the first muttering gossips managed to find their voices past the initial shock.

They parted gently, exchanging smirks, and didn’t look up until a loud clatter from the direction of the warriors three caught their attention.

Volstagg was looking a bit sheepish; he’d dropped a half-empty tray of fruit. Fandral looked like he was surprised but trying not to laugh, Thor wore a resigned but mildly amused expression, and Sif looked as though she’d swallowed a small cactus. Hogun was the only one entirely uneffected.

Tony laughed at them, an arm around Loki’s waist and one of the trickster’s arms draped over his shoulders. He was wearing more leather and metal than he’d ever worn at once before in his life, he was surrounded by nearly-immortal god-like figures in the royal banquet hall of _Asgard_ , and he and the god of mischief had just confused and surprised a crowd of rather less imaginative people, many of whom were making positively hilarious faces at them. “Oh, this will be fun,” he growled, near Loki’s ear.

Loki sniggered and countered, in slightly breathy tones, “Tony, I love you.”

The engineer brightened at that, only a little surprised to hear Loki come out and say it this time. Idly, he wondered if he should shoot the All-Father a thumb’s up, but decided it would ruin the mood. He tightened his grip around the god of mischief’s waist and smirked. “I love you, too. What’s next to shake things up, then?”

Loki’s smile broadened considerably. “Well, do you see Volstagg over there, standing next to that precarious decorative arrangement?”

“The little fountain that could easily send chilled mead pouring down your brother’s collar, you mean? Yeah.” Tony chuckled. “If you time it right you could get him to trip and stumble onto the rest of them on those stairs, there.”

“Would you like to begin it, or shall I?”

“After you, darling.”

In the end, no one could prove a thing, given how many witnesses had been busy staring at Loki and the visiting Avenger over in the corner near Frigga, having a relatively relaxed and mildly flirtatious discussion of some sort, when the first clattering crash started near the main banquet table.

Sif, her dress stained from where a drenched Thor had landed on herself and Fandral, glared sullenly at them for the rest of the night, along with several other suspicious persons who had got caught up in the chaos that had ensued shortly after. Tony had absolutely no problem with this.

 

~~

 

Loki’s chambers were impressive, and unsurprisingly decorated in a green theme. Green and shining metal, all throughout. The small flame in Loki’s palm that led them in swirled outward, with a flick of the lie-smith’s wrist, and lit several small lamps around the room. Advanced society or no, they seemed to prefer fire over electric lighting. Tony found it a bit odd, and said as much.

“It’s aesthetics, about which we tend to be rather shameless,” Loki explained, smirking a little as he shrugged out of his formal coat and draped it over a chair, and began work on the ornate metal chest plate.

Tony leaned against the nearest bed-post (he had to admit the size and inherent luxury of the enormous four-poster bed had serious appeal––mostly the idea of splaying Loki out on it and ending the night on a high note) and settled there to watch. “Not magic this time?”

“Are your complaining?”

“Not at all, except that I’ve barely got a clue how to get my own off,” Tony hinted.

Loki smirked at him, and set his own metal armor aside, starting work on the various layers over his tunic, holding the engineer’s gaze all the while.

 _Asgardian clothes lack a degree of stretch and give in some key locations_ , Tony realized suddenly, and stood up a bit straighter to ease the pressure on certain valuable parts of his anatomy that Loki was deliberately provoking. “Now that’s really just unfair.”

Loki finished stripping to the waist, and removed his boots before having the mercy to approach the engineer and begin work on the other man’s armor. The trickster made a low, appreciative noise in his throat. “It does suit you,” he murmured.

“Not half so much as being naked does.”

The god of mischief grinned at that, and lost patience, removing the rest of Tony’s armor with a complicated gesture, and pressing close until he had the engineer bodily pinned against the bedpost. “I have to agree.”

 

~~

 

Tony had only half-recovered from his last orgasm when Loki asked him how much he wanted to know about the conversation with Odin earlier. The human engineer stretched a bit, mumbling something incoherent, and shifted under the sheets until he had his head atop his folded arms, which in turn rested on Loki’s bare chest. Tony arched an eyebrow. “I’d like to know all of it, you know that,” he said quietly. “My curiosity about you doesn’t exactly have limits.”

The god of mischief smiled a bit tiredly at that. “I think he honestly had very little idea who I was, as a person, until I was dragged back here in chains,” he began, and slowly recounted his own defense and bargaining that day in the royal throne room. He found the words came easier if he had his fingers in Tony’s hair, carding through it half-consciously. “I had been so focused on Thor that I hadn’t been able to see what I’d really been after.”

“Acknowledgement from the big guy?”

“Something more than that.” Loki’s eyes narrowed a little. “It wasn’t merely that I needed him to look at me. I needed him to know that he should be afraid of what Thor and I both are capable of. In Thor’s case: he’s rather hopeless as a leader in most matters aside from battle, warfare, and drunken camaraderie. His diplomacy has improved since the beginning, but he still is not half so astute at reading people and situations as our father.”

“And in your case?”

Loki fell quiet for a long moment, staring ceiling-ward. “You know precisely what I’m capable of, Tony,” he said softly, unmoving, though he let out a long breath when he felt the engineer’s lips on his throat: light and comforting. “I’m aware that I’m insane. I’m aware that there are many times wherein I do not know when to stop, when I really should.”

“Like that destroying a planet idea?”

The lie-smith snorted, amused. “Yes, precisely.”

“And this came up in today’s conversation?”

“Yes.”

“Which started out being about me? To clarify.”

Loki’s lips twisted in a rueful smirk. “I did hope you’d gathered that already.”

“If I hadn’t, you’d want to worry about whether I might’ve gotten any recent head injuries,” Tony countered.

“Yes, it started out about you. Odin is astute, and he has been watching me far more closely these days, now that we have something of an understanding. He confronted me about the various laws I broke, starting with stealing from Idunn.”

“Apples?”

“Yes. Also, bringing you here. Generally, there’s a sort of procedure for bringing anyone mortal into Asgard: they receive the apples here, and once empowered they are given numerous tests of courage. Once they pass, they become a citizen of Asgard, with access to the benefits thereof for the rest of their long, long lives. Only one or two people have managed it.” Loki shrugged. “I frankly thought you already more than qualified, that such a thing rather lacked subtlety, and I’m impatient: thus, I skipped all that.”

Tony chuckled. “Sounds like you.”

Loki nodded, his eyes falling shut for a moment. “So yes, he was rather put off by that, and challenged me on it.” He frowned, eyes open again, focused on something distant. “It may help to mention that he started off the conversation requesting I drop my masks, which is a risky sort of thing to challenge me to do in an argument over such a subject.”

“I can see that,” Tony mused, and met Loki’s gaze. They had both seen under the masks, and found that the streak of slightly vicious, thrill-seeking, commonly spiteful creatures they kept underneath them had common roots. They spoke the same language of _do not fuck with me and mine_ under all the rest. “So it quickly turned into a conversation about rule-breaking in general, and where it should stop?”

“Yes. I may have threatened to turn on Asgard again if he felt a need to treat you as a mortal out of your proper place here.”

Tony blinked. “Oh.”

“Yes. Well, I clarified that this would make my overall goal of preventing its destruction at _that one_ ’s hands a little more difficult, but logistically it’s not that great of a change. I could adapt my plans easily enough to suit the part of antagonist.”

“But you would be against your family again,” the engineer clarified.

“They are the only ones capable of stopping me, aside from possibly our gatekeeper, and furthermore I am their responsibility––so, yes.”

“How did that go?”

“Odin is practical, at least. He’s been a thief, and a cheat, and even a bit of a trickster. Old stories about him in those days are where I got a lot of ideas, early on,” Loki murmured. “He has fit the world from the outside, too intelligent and too powerful for laws to fully apply to him. He has recognized me as something similar, but rather less righteous.”

“Ah,” Tony murmured. “Hence the bit about knowing when to stop.”

Loki nodded. “For that I now have you to consult, and provide me context in that regard, and my father to fall back on if I ever end up too far gone to remember that I should listen.” He cringed. “Or if I somehow lose you.”

“I... you’re relying on _me_ as a moral compass?”

“I don’t know if ‘moral’ is the word I would use. It’s more a matter of tastefulness, and style,” the lie-smith rephrased. “Also, you’re more than clever enough to spot such holes in my plans as ‘well, if he’d wanted the planet blown up, he would have done it himself.’”

Tony couldn’t help but smirk at that. “You’re insane.”

“Yes. As are you.” The god of mischief ran his hand through his engineer’s short hair again. “Just the right kind of insane to keep me fascinated, all the time.”

In response, Tony leaned up and kissed him, gentle almost to the point it might be mistaken for chaste. “I can live with that.” He kissed the corner of Loki’s mouth, then the edge of his jaw. “If you ever start to get away from me, and yourself, I can promise you that I’ll let you know, and I’ll drag you back even if it kills us both.”

Loki shivered, his eyes falling shut. “Tony, don’t––”

He pinned the god of mischief’s wrists to the bed suddenly. “You were the one who pointed out the sheer possibilities of what I might be capable of, given time.” He glanced down pointedly at his arc reactor. “I can cheat death, and carve my way out of anything, given time. Thanks to you, I now have that particular resource in droves, haven’t I?”

The god of mischief stared up at him, pupils wide and dark. He made a small, slightly incoherent noise indicative of agreement.

Tony smiled down at him, sharp and a little rough-edged. “That’s all I need, Loki: time, my personal variety of insanity, and you to focus some of it on.”

“I believe that,” Loki breathed, sounding a little mystified.

“Also, as your moral compass, let me remind you: destroying planets is bad.”

Helplessly, the god of mischief laughed a little, sounding winded. “If you’re my moral compass, then what on earth am I?”

“My muse, my lover, my distraction, my fixation, and instant cure for anything even vaguely resembling boredom,” Tony countered.

Loki let his head fall back, grinning brilliantly. “I love you as well, you know.”

“I do,” Tony murmured, leaning in to kiss him again. “I really do.”

**Author's Note:**

> So. This happened. And I blame all of you who said such nice things to me about my previous story, because wow are you guys good for my ego. Also, I blame Odin. The dynamic between he and Loki is an addictive one to write. I also did a bit less proofreading on this one, because I got impatient, sorry.


End file.
